Ubiquitous

Her birth name was Sammy Gerry Mander. But since everyone pronounced the last two so fast, they called her Sammy Gerrymander.

Sammy was vivacious, the kind of pigtailed girl the boys chased but couldn't catch unless she wanted to be caught.

Sammy wore red-checked blouses like an Italian tablecloth. She tied them at her waist which showed her olive-skinned midriff. Today she would be applauded for her washboard abs. When she was younger, it was just one more aspect that made the snappy-eyed beauty so ungraspably appealing and a real challenge.

When Sammy learned what gerrymander meant, she broke out laughing right in Mr. Humboldt's Political Science class.

"What now, Sammy?"

"It's gerrymander, Sir," she sparkled, and read from the glossary. "Formed from the name of Governor Eldridge Gerry, 1744-1814, and salamander, from the likeness of the animal of the gerrymandered map of Massachusetts in 1811."

"Tell us more."

"Well, it appears that Governor Gerry was a manipulator. I suppose today we'd say he politically wise. What he did was rearrange the voting districts to the advantage of his party and candidate. After he was done, the map looked like a salamander. Crazy!"

Everyone laughed. Partly because of the girl's charming innocence, but also everyone knew that Sammy didn't have a political bone in her body. Moreover, while she excelled in Biology and sports, she barely passed Government and Political Science. She simply couldn't grasp why two parties were needed when, to her simple mind, they both seemed to be saying the same thing anyway.

Drawn to Natural Science, Sammy loved to clomp around in swamps and bogs looking for what others called creepy crawly creatures. She had a special interest in mud puppies, newts, and salamanders. One boy, Bobby Gilchrist, who never gave up the chase though he never captured

his prey, anxiously accompanied the vivacious girl every weekend, self-made field trip she organized. He was interested in only one specimen. When Sammy dove into a pile of wet leaves and came out with something wiggling, Bobby, trying every angle, teased, "You silly salamander."

Because of all the references to the smooth-skinned amphibian and especially Bobby's remark, when she turned twenty-one, the playful woman changed her name from Gerry Mander to Gerrymander. Once she got her Bachelor's Degree in Biology and Master's in Zoology, specializing in Amphibians and particularly Salamanders, Sammy made her hobby her profession. Now she marched through the marshes. swamps, wetlands, and bogs for fun and professionally.

Sammy was not only vivacious, she was also a true leader, the kind people follow naturally: her magnetic character simply drew people to her. So it wasn't surprising that when she formed a club, "The Mud Puppies," many adventurous men and women who loved to romp the woods to find owls, scour the plains to see gophers and prairie dogs, and, of course, slop for her ubiquitous namesake, joined. One was Robert Gilchrist, her childhood secret admirer. It was during one of these forays that The Big Thing happened.

Sammy, always ahead of her fellow Puppies, tripped over a pointed object and landed face-first in the muck. The black face that looked up begged an endearing smile from Robert, who now sported a Doctor's Degree in Archeology. But when Sammy asked, "Bobby, what's this?" his interest turned from personal to professional.

The enamored scientist tapped the arc-shaped object that had brought Sammy down. He answered, "Interesting shape and material." In keeping with his mode of operation, he immediately added, "Let's dig deeper."

Every shovel full increased Robert's interest. The oddly shaped object appeared to be a tree since it was made of wood and rose from the bog vertically.

"It's not a tree," he said after looking at it closely. "Look, it's hand-carved." Now interest changed to fascination. "What we're looking at is anartifact. And a very large one, too."

The digging was difficult because of the object's position and the black muck that surrounded it. The find became the focal point of all Mud Puppies, especially when Sammy said, "Guys, we've found something over here. Something big, somethingimportant."

Everyone joined in. After their first turn, the diggers looked like coal

miners. Sammy kidded her friends by calling them Creatures from the Black Lagoon. The happy-go-lucky field trip had turned into a party with a purpose.

"We need more wine," said a Puppy.

"Well, that's too bad, because this is all we have."

Those who rested had to satisfy themselves with Ritz Crackers and sharp cheddar cheese washed down by thimbles full of a cheap Port.

But the were determined. They worked as if they were digging a tunnel to China. Ten feet, fifteen feet, on they went, slopping all the way.

Eighteen feet down, Dr. Robert proclaimed, "Fellow Puppies, you know what I think we have here?"

"I'll vote, one big mess," said a digger.

"How about a challenge for the Laundromat?" replied a second.

"I think we have a mutated Sequoia that decided to grow upside down," added a third.

On a serious note, Robert said, "If I'm not mistaken, clubbies, I think we have stumbled onto a great archeological find. Rather, Sammy has."

"That's the way it usually happens, isn't it?"

"Surprisingly, yes," answered the archeologist. "Many great finds have been discovered by the same method: tripping over them."

"Well," said Sammy, "as accidental or scientific as this may be, I think we shouldn't forget our Credo, Doctor: We're not to bescientificon our trips. Mud Puppies search for thefunof it."

"You don't call this fun?" said a black-faced Caucasian, throwing a mud ball at a club member. "Anyway, I figure if this thing is an artifact, it's a whopper. I bet it goes half way to China."

"My guess is it's closer to thirty-eight to forty-feet," replied Bobby, eyes beaming.

"How so?" asked a friend.

"Because of the width and bow."

"Right. If I'm not mistaken, the part that Sammy so clumsily tripped over is the bow of a boat."

The black faces looked blankly.

"In the middle of a swamp?"

"Yes," continued the scientist. "And that's what makes it so interesting. A Viking ship in a swamp in the middle of nowhere!"

Then the archeologist pointed out the carvings, joining of planks, and

curvature of the prow as if he were giving a lecture at the university.

"Why is it standing on its end instead of lying flat, Doctor?"

"Possibly from the land shifting through time. The better question is, why here, half-way down the continent and near no water?"

"The Mississippi is only thirty or forty miles away..."

"Of course!" said Dr. Gilchrist. "Why didn't I think of that? Yes, they must have paddled from the headwaters of the St. Laurence across the Great Lakes and down Old Muddy."

"That," said Sammy, "or they came from the far North, down Hudson's Bay, then down to Superior the length of Lake Michigan."

"Either way, it's down the Mississippi for sure. But why forty miles to the West? What would a forty-foot boat be doing this far inland?"

"A real mystery," smiled Sammy. And to ease the situation, she added, "You want the last of the Port?"

"How about a bottle of Starboard instead?" replied a Puppy, and the club members laughed through their bog make-up.

The deeper they dug the more difficult the digging because of the seepage. "We'll have to dig a hole half the size of Iowa to get this out, Professor. It oozes in like quicksand."

"Ah," exclaimed Robert. "that's it, that's why it's upright. At one time this probablywasquick sand. A boat this length would never sink flat. Somehow it got tipped. then gravity did the rest."

The group could go no further. They sloshed to their vehicles and sought help. Soon, a back hoe finished the job.

"Yes, yes!" shouted Gilchrist. "We've found her! Finally, a breakthrough in my studies. And all by accident. All because of you, Sammy. You and your crazy Mud Puppy Club. Because of you, a whole new thesis has to be established concerning the Vikings and the extent of their travels. Just imagine, Sammy, Vikings in Iowa. In a peat bog surrounded by rolling hills. The whole proposition is..."

"Mind boggling."

"Well, yes, though I was going to say one big anomaly."

It took Bobby Gilchrist, professional archeologist, over twenty years to find the only thing that ever tripped Silly Salamander. True, she was more than a friend, but that was okay, because now she had finally given him something that made him equally happy, something very dear to his heart. She given him what all archeologists dream about: a Real Find.

This Sammy, she's one challenge after another!